I had to get out of bed this morning. That helps. All the windows were open due to the "sweating balls" magnitude of last night's heat. Luckily, the rain that the strong wind blew in went primarily on the stuff left by my room's former occupant. I don't feel bad.
Last night, Will informed me of a Honda CB 350 on Craigslist. I e-mailed the owner and have had my fingers crossed ever since.
Today is the second consecutive (but last, this week) day of waking up early and going to work. It was more difficult this morning, for some reason. I could guess as to why but then gonI'd have to speak in barista jargon... no one wants that (least of all, me).
After work but before I walk Mr. Toblerone, I will be at Reckless. The new Arcade Fire album is supposed to be worth listening to and I could use some fresh jams to put my mind back in some sort of rhythm.
Alright, now that all the bullet-points are finished, on to today's topic...
How about rain boots? They're pretty fucking hideous under any circumstance I can conjure up.
Maybe I should begin the way I usually do.
When I write, I sit down and start typing (or physically writing) whatever's in my head. I try to use some sort of rhyming scheme or commonality between words to, if nothing else, keep me interested. My topic is usually myself because I don't read articles or books very thoroughly and, thus, don't have much of an educated opinion on anything. Maybe that's tragic. What if I had the most important message in the world? What if I was the second coming of Jesus, for instance, and I had to expose Santa Claus as having ulterior motives? Well, if I couldn't write or speak in an organized manner then I'd be fucked. Conversely, deranged people like Adolf Hitler or clever-but-not-brilliant people like Barack Obama come off sounding credible with the acquisition of a skill, like speaking or writing. This is an old thought, though, and if someone has an opinion one way or another about Hitler or Barack Obama then that same person is probably already familiar.
Looking back on that last paragraph, I don't see how the first few sentences led me to the rest of the paragraph. Anyways, where was I, anywhere? I guess my point in all that is another idea that's been hashed and re-hashed countless times, which is that the dumbest people tend to have the loudest and strongest voices. I don't think there's anything ridiculous about that statement... but then, one drunken night with Danny, he said (in what seemed like an awkward confidence) something like, "I don't want to come off as sounding paranoid, but the majority of people are into some pretty dumb things." I was shocked. Was this such a scary idea to him? Like Winston Smith, was Danny ashamed to be thinking such thoughts?
It seems to me that, as I get older, people my age grow more and more fearful of deviating from the way they perceive things as being. It's like they see the way the world works and, because it's there, assume that it correct. That's a pretty terrifying thought. For one reason or another, I have a vendetta against television. I'm sure I've written about it on this page before. How is it okay to allow yourself to be barraged by advertisements and product placement during programming that is selected by the likes of Rupert Murdoch and Ted Turner? How can so many people spend 20+ hours a week exposing their minds to something that is not the least bit trustworthy?
The Arcade Fire got some things right on Neon Bible. I'll see if we're still on the same page.
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